Page 24 of Relentless

She watched the announcement of their pitiful church opening, which always hit Harper with a sense of irony. Her daughter had single-handedly burned one ministry to the ground while building another from the ashes. Her thumb hovered over the screen as the next video began to play.

“This must be what Delia was talking about,” she mumbled. Even the sound of her own whisper made her wince. Through her pounding headache and foggy mind, she heard her daughter’s words crystal clear.

Oakleigh toasted Maeve, referring to her as amother, sister,andbest friend.

“Sheshowed you what it means to be a part of a family?“ Harper echoed in disbelief. Clenching her teeth in disgust, she slammed her phone back on the nightstand.

What about me?

All the time and effort I put in?

She would have been nothing without me.

— Maeve did this.

Harper’s blood began to boil, causing her migraine to sear behind her eyes. Her attention snapped again to the bottle of prescription medication. She was never one to take painkillers. They always made her terribly drowsy — and Harper prided herself in staying sharp. Yet, at that moment, she would have taken anything to dull the pain and slow the agony of her spinning thoughts. Reaching for the orange prescription bottle, she popped open the white plastic top and tapped a few caplets into her palm. She flipped them carelessly into her mouth before the thought crossed her blurry mind that she should be mindful of just how many she was taking. With the tip of her tongue, she sorted through the smooth, bitter-tasting pills.

Three. Maybe four?

No, definitely three — I think.

“Oh, who cares,” she mumbled through her sealed lips. Reaching her hand into her nightstand drawer, she felt her fingertips brush the cold, smooth surface of her sterling silver flask. She retrieved it and unscrewed the lid. Tilting it back, she took a long swig, savoring the burn of the liquor. Collapsing back on her pillowy linens, Harper closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift away.

“This is your captain speaking —”

Harper jolted awake.

Disoriented to her surroundings, she pulled her fingers down her face.

It felt numb.

She noticed a splotch of makeup on the glass window beside her. Her mouth felt bone dry, seeing mountains gently floating below. Sitting up in her seat, she whipped around frantically, causing her dark designer sunglasses to fall into her lap. She gripped the soft leather armrests under her palms while she attempted to orient herself.

“I’m on a flight,” she croaked. Quickly swiping the drool from the corner of her mouth, she corrected her posture.

“Sure are,” said the man beside her. He was wearing a friendly expression and what she considered an obnoxious cowboy hat. “You seemed pretty out of it when we boarded,” he shrugged, letting out a low chuckle. “Then again, everyone in Los Angeles seems pretty out of it to me.”

Feeling her cheeks burn hot, she racked her foggy mind on how she had even gotten to the airport, let alone navigated her way onto a plane. Her eyes went wide as she chewed the acrylic nail on her ring finger. Panic burst through her chest.

Did I drive like this?

Fumbling around in search of her phone, she thankfully found it safely tucked away under her thigh. She swiped her finger across her screen and tapped on her rideshare app. Relief swept over her, seeing in her history that she had been picked up.

Much to her aggravation, she also noticed the driver had rated her with aone-star reviewas a passenger.

Pulling her dark sunglasses back over her eyes, she slammed the window shade closed. She settled into the soft leather seat and allowed the hum of the engine to lull her back to sleep.

At least I can still afford first class.

Harper figured that even her subconscious knew she deserved a break and a change of scenery. She could only assume she had booked herself a much-needed vacation to some tropical all-inclusive spa.

A cheery flight attendant wearing a blue dress stopped by Harper’s row with a drink cart.

“Can I ask you—” Harper hesitated, searching for the most inconspicuous way to inquire about where they were headed without admitting she had blacked out and booked herself a flight to some unknown destination. “Um, never mind that,” she pivoted with a wave of her hand. “I’ll have a vodka soda, please.”

“Certainly,” she replied mildly, promptly twisting the cap off a miniature liquor bottle with a satisfyingpop. Pouring it over ice, she added a splash of soda and placed it in Harper’s eager hand.

It was right on time in Harper’s estimation, feeling her persistent, nagging migraine begin to pulse against her temples once again.

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